


"These Are The Days Of Our Lives"

by lyllytas



Series: Retirement [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ace!Aziraphale, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Children, Cults, M/M, Non graphic mentions of child abuse, Non sex repulsed asexual character, Original Character(s), Original Child Characters, mentions of torture, non graphic mentions of sexual abuse, non graphic mentions of tortue, power binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyllytas/pseuds/lyllytas
Summary: In the days that followed the apocalypse that wasn't, they had begun to feel safe. They had bested the power of heaven and hell. Fire, brimstone and holy retribution were worries no longer. But they had forgotten entirely about the human element. No, the situation Crowley found himself in now had nothing to do with him and what he'd done, but entirely to do with what he was. He could only hope that Aziraphale was more observant of his surroundings then he had been or else they would both be in a world of trouble.





	1. Finding onself in an unsavory situation

**Author's Note:**

> One day I'll figure out how to do annotations on here. Today is not that day.  
> I don't think the torture's are too graphic, but added the tag, just in case.  
> Formerly: Like Human's Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets into some trouble

In the days that followed the Apocalypse That Wasn't, Crowley and Aziraphale had begun to feel safe. They had bested the powers of Heaven and Hell. Fire, brimstone and Holy Retribution were worries no longer. But they had forgotten entirely about the human element.

No, the situation Crowley found himself in now had nothing to do with him and what he'd done, but entirely to do with what he was - a demon. He could only hope that Aziraphale was more observant of his surroundings then he had been or else they would both be in a world of trouble.

It was a cult. He was ashamed of himself. He was fairly sure he'd had something to do with getting them on their feet back in the day. They'd decided that a demon was a good sacrifice to get the whatever they wanted. And luck had been on their side. It had been a fairly cold winter, and they'd managed to catch him on a rather dark and rainy day, which made him quite sluggish.* The whole thing was actually really irritating.

(*The lead pipe they'd hit him over the head with hadn't helped matters.)

At the moment, a woozy Crowley found chained onto some kind of stone alter, sprawled across the top, his arms chained on one end, his legs on the other. His spine might have protested being stretched across the stone surface, if it catered to things like reason and human limitations. It didn't, and none of his powers were affecting the chains that kept him from being free. He tried to remember.

It was hazy. There had been a whole circle of them gathered around him when he was coming to.  They'd done some chanting and circled around him with burning herbs earlier. The herbs made him feel funny and it was hard to breathe, And they had blessed the chains manacles to hold him. He must have passed back out for a little bit then, which led to his current predicament.

They had gagged him when they first captured him, but he'd at least managed to get that off and set about irritating them the way they'd irritated him. He couldn't get out of the chains, but powers were not his only weapon at his disposal. He still had his mouth, and he could be _really_ Annoying when he wanted.

But then the leader had torn open his shirt and used some dagger with etched symbols to carve into the skin on his chest.

 _'I really liked that shirt.'_ Crowley thought to himself just as he felt the second worst pain in his very long life* wash over him.

(*The first worse pain, of course being the Fall)

“Your powers shall be mine, foul creature.” He said once Crowley had stopped writhing and twitching and realized the gag was back in place.

“That's an _idea_ of what's to come for you, once the time is right.” The man turned to his followers.

“Children, hear me." He raised his arms. "In one weeks time, the moon and the planets will all align and the universe will be on our side. We shall banish this creature back to whence it came, and with it's strength, build a new world.”

 _'Oh you've really got to be kidding me.'_ He thought to himself again as his powers slipped away every time he tried to use them. Getting this rag out of his mouth hadn't been a problem a moment ago. But now he couldn't even do that much. Now he had to listen to this nonsense.

“Move it to the room.” The priest pointed towards Crowley.

Crowley found himself being dragged off the alter into a smaller, dark room, where he was chained so his hands were above his head.

 _Humans!_ Crowley had planned for Heaven and Hell, but not Humanity. Aziraphale was going to tease him mercilessly when he got out of this scrape. He struggled against them, feeling like his wings were plastered to his back, like he could feel them even though they weren't there, smashed between him and the wall.

And then they just left him. Closed the door and walked away. He stared at the door in confusion. Surely that wasn't all. He tried to look at his surroundings in the dark room, but his eyes felt dull, and the shadows refused to form into shapes.

<~>

It was almost boring. He wanted to sleep, except that it was so bloody cold in here and the sigils cut into his chest refused to scab over. He didn't need to nourishment or refreshment like humans but the rag stuffed into his mouth made his throat feel so dry. And the longer he was here, the more the chains bothered him. It was just a slight irritation at first, but it had gone from an itch he couldn't scratch to a blistering burning.

The door cracked distracting him.

A little girl, maybe 8 came into the room.*

(*Crowley had never been particular good at telling ages of humans, but this girl was particularly small and thin.)

“You don't look like a demon.” She said. “Except for your eyes when they brought you in.” Her own eyes had a gaunt, haunted look to them. “They looked more demonic than the last one.”

Had they been out killing _random_ people? Was this whole thing just bad luck?

“The last one smelled funny.” She made an icky face. “And there were bugs.”

Oh, so maybe they were actually _somehow_ finding real demons.

“It was messy though, I don't think it did what he wanted. Says he's figured it out, how to get what he wants.” She edged closer. “So if you are a demon, how strong are you?” She bit her lip. “I want to make a deal. That's what demons do right?”

Crowley looked at her with interest.

She moved forward, glancing around. “Please don't yell, you'll get his attention. She pulled the gag down.

His tongue felt like cotton and he smacked it against the roof of his mouth.

“I brought water.” she held the cup out to him. It was a sippy cup. Surely even she wasn't still drinking from that. And did she expect him to?

She brought the cup up to his lips. It was awkward. But his throat cried out with delight.

“What's a little girl got to offer?" He rasped. "Besides water?”

“Anything you want.” She said firmly.

“What's your name?” He asked after a moment.

“Suzanne.”

“And why, little Suzy have you come bartering for favors with a demon?”

“Because I don't have any other options.” She said. “I'm ten years old, and no one takes me seriously. I'm not allowed to go to school, and one day I'll have to be somebody's wife.” She fisted the front of her dress in her hands. “And it's one thing when he touches me. But I see the way he looks at my younger sister. " She looked at him fiercely. "And if there's a way to protect her, I'd be willing to do anything.”

His stomach felt sour. Little kids had always been his weakness.*

(*That, and He always did think that pedophiles were the sorriest lot on Earth and Hell alike.)

“If I'm a demon, who's to say I wouldn't do something like that.” His stomach twisted at the idea that he would ever be capable of such a thing. “You have to be careful who you trust, girl. You shouldn't be giving out your name to demons.”

“My gut tells me you're a good person.” She looked at him, “Please, help us.”

“I can't do much for you right now.” He rattled the chains. “I'm sorry. If I could, I would.”

Her eyes hardened again and she pulled the cup closer to herself. “I see.”

“If I got these chains off, then maybe." He shrugged. "But right now, I'm sorry.”

“I can't help you with the chains. He keeps the key around his neck.”

Suddenly he felt evil coming closer, moving down the hall. “He's coming.” Crowley warned her. “And unless you want to get caught, I'd put that rag back in place and then hide.”

“Sorry.” she said, doing as he told. “I guess it's both of our fates to have to suffer.” She darted and hid, just before the door opened.

It was time for evening service.

<~>

He had starting to figure out the schedule. Three times a day they had services here in the “church”. There were maybe 11 of them, plus the two little girls. He was utterly furious for their sake. The younger one was skinny too, and so very small. His heart _ached._

_< ~>_

So that old “priest” had convinced his followers to follow his own gospel, and he had a taste for little girls. Suzanne never came back to talk to him, but sometimes she looked at him sadly when they dragged him out to the alter to try and get him to voluntarily give up his powers. He wondered what the other girl's name was and longed to itch his wrists and ankles, or be rid of the uncomfortable feeling of wings tied to his back.

The things he heard, the things he saw made him _angry,_ but being able to do nothing was _worse._ It reminded him of Hell, and he was glad to have gotten the chance to escape to Earth. but _where_ would those girls escape to? How could a mother let her children go through this?

<~>

Listening to that arsehole "priest"* spout nonsense three times a day would have been torture enough, but in the evenings, he came.

(*Crowley knew his name, but preferred to think of him as “That Arsehole”)

“You're a pretty one aren't you?” He walked across the room, stopping to pull the gag off.

“Makes the job easier.” Crowley shrugged going for indifferent. Blood lubricated his throat some, but without his powers, he wasn't healing, and so much blood loss had started to make him feel a bit lightheaded. “Interesting thing you've got going on here, though I can't see this working out for you.”

“It doesn't matter what happens. You'll be dead, and I'll have your power.” He looked sure of himself. “I know you're trying to think of some clever ways to escape. But you won't. And even if you could, you wouldn't be able to get very far.” He set something on the ground by Crowley.

“Wouldn't want to mess up those pretty sigils. Not after all the work it took me to get them right. But that still leaves me with plenty to work with. I hear some demons use their nails like weapons. Maybe I'll start there and we'll work our way through the list.”

On the first night, he pried Crowley's nails and toe nails off with tweezers. On the second night he turned him around so his face was smushed into the wall and took a riding crop to the bottoms of Crowley's feet. That had been particularly unpleasant.

The third night was the most enlightening for him. It was when he truly realized that That Arsehole, was just enjoying causing pain, and not just trying to keep him in a weakened state to prevent him from escaping. On that night, he took a lighter and waved it over Crowley's hands, letting the flame touch him, and reveling in the melting, burning flesh.

“You're really going to fit in down below, you know.” Crowley bit back a scream. “That nonsense you're spouting. It's all a load of crock.”

“Yes indeed,” He looked gleeful. “But people always believe. And with them, I can bring down Demons. You're number three. Don't you feel lucky?” He sparked the lighter. “It's a learning process, but I think I've got it right now. And until then, we'll just have a little fun, shall we?”

And so it continued. During the day, he'd hear the three services being held, and people continued to ignore him in his drafty dark room, and at night, That Arsehole came to visit. Six whole times it repeated.

But then it changed. One day, he was woken, not by church services but by the door to his room spilling open and a familiar voice saying “My _dear_ boy.”

Crowley turned towards the doorway as Aziraphale made his way into the room and tutted when he saw the gag. “I knew that someone would do that to you one day. You do like to drive people insane with your voice.”

"Azira." He croaked wearily once the rag was removed.

"Oh my _dear_ boy." Azirphale looked over his battered form. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

"Humans," Crowley managed to say, though it took quite an effort. "Burns," he gingerly pulled on the chains. Every part of him hurt, but he would have walked across burning coals to get to Aziraphale.

The door pushed open again. "We were hoping you would come.” Several men filed into the room, cramped room brandishing weapons. “Not you in particular, but someone. Two is better than one. Look what we have done. You're come to your doom, demon."

Aziraphale turned to the door, and the men standing there with guns. "Oh my. Well you're _quite_ mistaken." He glanced back to Crowley, ignoring the man who spoke. "Is this where you've been all week, I _thought_ it was too quiet."

"Silence!"

Aziraphale's _'excuse me, bitch?'_ face was quickly covered by his polite bookseller personality. The pair turned their full attention in the man's direction, and saw more of his followers filing into the main room outside.

"We'll tear the beating heart from this one's chest and then yours too.” One of the men spoke. “Stella, bring the chains. The planets align tomorrow, and our guest is just in time."

Aziraphale glanced at the chains she had and felt relaxed. "And just what are you planning on doing with our hearts?" He asked.

"I could care less about your Hearts, demon. I want your _power._ And my children and I shall have it."

"No you shall not." Aziraphale said, rather unlike himself. "I can see what you have planned. Your souls are _rotten.”_ He bared his teeth. “And I am not a Demon." He assumed his true form, his body melting away. "I am an angel. And you should be very afraid."

The humans were screaming, several of them cowering. The angel almost wanted to very not good things just because they had hurt Crowley.

"Anthony." He turned back to where Crowley was chained, reminded of why he was here in the first place. Crowley winced as the Light burned into him.

"Burn it." Crowley rasped. "To the ground."

Aziraphale didn't ask him twice. He had no idea what they'd done or what they exactly they were capable of, but Crowley wanted it to burn, so it would.

"You wanted power, and now you shall see it."

"Run." Crowley's voice cracked.

"He's right. You should run." His flames were not like Hellfire. They were purifying. And no Earthly substance could put them out.

Stone wouldn't burn. But Heaven's power flourished where there was evil, and there was quite a lot here. He summoned up his power and directed it as far away from Crowley as he could before he lost himself under Her power.

There was so much fire and lots of screaming Aziraphale realized when he came back to himself.

"Angel." Crowley spoke though it clearly pained him, his voice grating like gravel. "Angel are you in there?"

Just how long had Crowley been trying to reach him? He shook his head to clear it then hid away his true form. The flames were making their way toward the room, towards the demon. Aziraphale darted over. "I'll have you out in a jiffy dear."

Crowley winced when Aziraphale shifted him to get a better look at the chains.

"Off with these." He waved his hand over Crowley's wrists, freeing them, then set to work on his ankles.

"The humans." Crowley said, reaching for power but still getting nothing. He was too weak and tired. A broken sound echoed through his lungs. "You have to, the children..." He broke down into deep coughs.

"Oh, you poor thing.” Aziraphale gathered him in his arms. “Rest. I sent everyone human far away. This place may be destroyed, but the people are safe. It's just us in here.”

“No you don't understand. The little girls.”

“Yes, two of them.”

“Away.” He pawed weakly at Aziraphale. “He's hurting them.”

“Oh. _OH.”_ He paused. “I'll take care of it. Let's get you home and I'll deal with it."

He snapped his fingers and they were back in the bookstore. Crowley made a pained noise, the smell of soot and books in his lungs; bile spattered from his lips and then he fell on the floor, unconscious.

The next time he woke up, he was in on the couch in his flat. He was wearing just a pair of underwear and Aziraphale had clearly cleaned him up. There no signs of the incident. No blisters, no scars, no burns. No boils or bruises or cuts. Aziraphale had healed him.

And with the symbols removed, his powers were back and his wings were free.

"Angel?" His throat still felt off, but better, no longer raw or bloody. His own powers would fix it soon enough.

"That was faster than I was expecting. I just got back a bit ago. I'm sorry my dear, I didn't think. The fire, the bookstore."

Crowley looked at his unbroken skin, fiddled with nails that had been ripped away. "You did it. You really burned it. Not an illusion.”*

(*Destroying things was typically Crowley's department, though it was usually Aziraphale's first suggestion.)

"The thoughts that were running through his head _; oh_ what he had planned, the people he hurt; what he did to you, and what was happening with the girl, _oh_ dreadful stuff. I got the government involved. That stuff is just indecent. I spoke to the children. You can see them for yourself in the morning..”

Crowley bolted off of the couch and was suddenly kissing him. "You saved the girls." He said when he pulled back.

Aziraphale's mind stuttered. "Yes, well you've always had a weak spot for children, and I undoubtedly am going to be in quite a lot of trouble over this whole situation. I was just so very _angry_ at them for hurting you, and the way you told me to do it, I had to.” He paused. ”Did you just kiss me?"

"I guess I did." said with all the patience of a man who had spent the last six thousand years trying not to do that.

"Can we do that again?"

“Y-” Crowley started to reply when he was shoved back into the wall and Aziraphale was kissing him again with all the force of a man who has just eighty years ago realized he was in love.

Most of the demon's brain was frozen except one tiny part that screamed _finally_.

Aziraphale pulled away. "Was that wrong?"

"Angel, " He tugged on Aziraphale's shirt collar, "I've been waiting for you to do that for thousands of years. I'm not convinced that this is some kind of dream.”

"Thousands of years?"

"Since the beginning," He bit his lip. "You, you gave your sword away and I just had to talk to you. I remember thinking that there was a chance to temp you to our side, but then you were just so bloody _nice,_ and your smile. _Oh._ The things I have done to see that smile.” He swallowed. “I always did go too fast for you."

"Bollocks. If Gabriel and all of them show up tomorrow, as I quite expect they will, I don't care. I never thought I would ever be able to say it.” He cupped Crowley’s cheek. “Crowley, I love you."

"Aziraphale." Crowley was kissing him again, desperately. "Oh Aziraphale. Say it again."

"Anthony J Crowley I love you."

Crowley kissed like he was trying to climb down his throat, desperately messy, and making all sorts of noises.

Aziraphale pulled back "I'm sorry it took me so long to catch up. But I love you. And even if the world ends, I won't regret saying that."

They kissed their way through the flat, shoving each other into walls, and finally made it to the bedroom. Crowley pushed him back onto the bed with it's too slippy sheets with a ridiculous thread count and tugged on his sweater vest. "You dress like a school master, but it's kind of adorable."

"Your Demonic Deeds are usually more of an inconvenience to everyone around, including you and even after those humans tied you up and tortured you for a week, you still made sure to save the children. That's what's adorable."

"I'm not adorable." Crowley bristled.

"Yes, you rather are. And you're nice."

"You stop that."

"You're a good person Crowley.” Aziraphale tweaked his nose. “You don't have a mean bone in your body."

"cept yours, you prissy nitwit." He paused. "S'a pun. The humans say-."

"I know what the humans say.”Aziraphale huffed. “Is that what you want?"

"Kinda where I thought this was going."

"Only if you want to." Aziraphale assured him.

[chapter 2 is NSFW, skip over to chapter 3 if you aren't into that.]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chp 2 is entirely NSFW, skip over to chapter 3 if you're here for the plot!


	2. NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW, you can skip directly to chapter 3 if you'd rather

"Aziraphale.” He panted, “Please, please for the love of everything. Please fuck me.”

"Hush dear, of course I will." He pushed Crowley on his back, flipping their positions. "I don't have much experience with this."

"I'll talk you through it." Crowley said as he wiggled over to reach into the night stand and produced a bottle of lube. He snapped and it was warm. "How convenient I'm pretty much undressed already." He grinned wickedly, and began to put on a show, stroking himself through his pants before finally kicking them off.

"Gotta stretch out. Our lot don't really need to do this part, but s'nice."

He started to turn over, so Aziraphale would have a better view.

"No, I want to see your eyes."

Crowley was momentarily shocked, but complied. He slicked his fingers up running one along the edges of his hole, teasing himself before sliding a finger in. He twisted it as he pulled on his cock, then added another, scissoring and twisting until he finally found his spot and didn't bother hiding the moan it caused.

"Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale said breathily. “ I want to do that. Will you let me do that for you?"

Crowley's eyes were so yellow they almost looked like they were taking over. He groped around for the bottle of lube. "Your fingers are thicker than mine. Start with one. And plenty of slick."

"What do I do?" he asked.

“Kind of move it. Like twist it around and stuff. And gradually you add fingers. I've never tried it out for myself, but the humans, well I hear some of them like it like, you know, " he pumped his fist a couple of times. "Not really clever, they call it fisting."

"I don't know, it sounds interesting,” Aziraphale said. “I'd like to try it out one day.”

"Aziraphale." He let out a strangled sound, his eyes opening wide. "What happened to me going to fast?"

"I figured I'd better catch up with you, my dear boy, you've been waiting long enough." He slid a finger into Crowley who gasped and then shuddered "Oh Fuck. Azira."

Aziraphale drank in the sight of Crowley each little quiver and the noises he made.

"Add another." Crowley directed and made a scissoring motion.

This time he was ready for Crowley's jump, and held his hips in place.

"Oh drat this angle." He grabbed Crowley's hips and dragged him into his lap.

"Oh fuck. Oh shit." Crowley's eyes widened.

"Did I do something wrong?” He paused “Did I hurt you?"

Crowley wrapped his hand back around his dick and pumped furiously. "No. No I liked that quite a lot. I've spent the last 6,000 years hoping you'd throw me over your shoulder and have your wicked way with me. By all means, manhandle me whenever you want." He flicked his thumb over his slit. “Just pleeease move your fingers."

"Move my...? Oh right." His fingers went back to their exploration and he brushed against something that made Crowley cry out, and it was like a switch was flipped, he started babbling.

"6,000 years, Angel. I'd let you do anything. You don't even know how many times I've laid on this bed with my eyes closed and fingers up my ass thinking of you. Tease myself until I come and keep going till it hurts. But eventually it doesn't and I get hard all over again, oh angel!" He wailed when Aziraphale added a third finger. Crowley's hand left his dick to lightly tug on his balls.

"You have too many clothes. Why aren't you naked!?" Crowley twisted up, tugged on his jacket, then dug his fingers under Aziraphale's shirt. "You're so much better designed than me. I'm a stick."

"You're a very attractive stick. And I'd give the humans and their tasty foods their due. Maybe if you ate more." He snapped his fingers and was free of his clothes. "Finally!" He eyed Aziraphale's cock hungrily before he dove in with his hands.

"Oh goodness gracious.” Aziraphale inhaled.

"Good or bad?" Crowley looked.

"Again." He managed. "Please."

"Now sweetheart, you don't have to beg me for anything. If you want it, it's yours." He flicked his thumb, then worked over the shaft before pulling back. "On your back then, lay down. I'll take care of you."

"You always do." He locked eyes with the demon as he laid out on his back. Crowley looked away with a flush.

"S'gonna feel weird." He popped open the cap of the lube before pouring some on his hand. It was miraculously still warm, and he slicked Aziraphale up well before adjusting himself so that he had a straight path down.

"Are you.." his voice caught in his throat when Crowley climbed onto him and settled above his lap, slowly started working his way down. and then Aziraphale found himself surrounded by the tightest velvet heat.

"Crowley. You feel..."

"Haven't even started yet dear."

The sight of Crowley riding him gave him thrills. He lapped up the noises Crowley made. Cataloged each movement. Watched as Crowley pumping his own erection, tweaked a nipple.

The world felt like it was shrinking till it was just the two of them, and the sounds their flesh made when they met. And then he tightened his hand on Crowley's thighs, twisted them so that Crowley was on his back and dove back in. Crowley whined and reached for his erection, but Aziraphale batted his hand away,

“Let me dear.” He took a firm grasp, repeating the motions.

“Yesssss.” Crowley hissed.

“Oh, you look so good like this dear. That's right, let yourself go. We're here, we're safe, the children are safe, it's just the two of us. He twisted his hand and Crowley wailed as he came.

Aziraphale stopped, breathing heavily,

“But you didn't...”

“Oh, that. Well, I don't particularly enjoy that part. I mean. I like getting to see you like that, and I like knowing that I'm the reason for it. But I dare say the reason I don't have much experience is because I'm not that inclined towards it.”

“Oh, angel, you didn't force yourself for me?” Crowley looked devastated as he shot up.

“No. Of course not. I meant what I said, I like seeing you like that, and I don't particularly mind doing it. The act itself is not that exciting, but seeing you like that, well it certainly is worth it.”

He pushed the demon back on the bed. “Come on, lay down.” He rubbed Crowley's shoulders. “We can figure our sex life out later. Sleep now. You're still healing from the other day. I fixed as much as I could."

  
  


 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm

In the morning... Nothing happened. At least, no the things he expected. Heaven nor Hell came.

Aziraphale woke up to Crowley basking in the sun. Of course his windows fell on the bed and of course he had no curtains or blinds. He squinted and looked at Crowley. “Love, dear, are you awake?”

“Mmm no. sun, warm.” Crowley twisted a bit.

“We have plans this morning.” Aziraphale reminded him.

Crowley shot up, eyes wide open. “The girls.”

“Right. I knew you'd want to see for yourself that they were okay.” He smiled fondly. “Now do get dressed my dear.”

Crowley dressed without putting to much thought into what he wore.*

(*He still had a certain vibe to him. He'd put thought into every article of clothing he'd once conjured, knowing that temptation of the flesh was an easy sin, made even easier by his flesh suit. But none of that mattered today.)

Once he was dressed, he turned to Aziraphale. “Where are they?”

“I got the ball rolling last night. They're at a temporary foster home. I'll show you.”

Crowley grabbed his car keys. “Come on, Angel.”

<~>

“It's you.” Suzanne said when she came into the room. "Your eyes are back to normal."

“I told you I'd help you if I could.” He looked at her.”

“And what do you want in return?”

He shrugged. “You gave me water, sounds like we made a deal.”

She frowned. “I wanted to protect my sister. But they keep talking, and they can't find a place for us both. They're going to put us in different places. I can't watch out for Belly from another city.”

Crowley turned towards Aziraphale, drawing up and pausing time. “We could do it.” He said a little too fast as he stood up and faced Aziraphale.

“Do it?” Aziraphale's brow crinkled.

“Take them in.” Crowley exclaimed.

“The humans have all sorts of laws.” The angel reminded him I don't think we fit the rules.”

“If you say yes, I think you'll find all the right paperwork has miraculously been filed for the right amount of time in the right places.” Crowley gave him a pleading look

“We don't really have a place for them here.”

“We've been in London for ages. We could get out of the city, maybe go back to Tadfield.”

And Crowley looked so hopeful, Aziraphale couldn't say no. “Well of course, dear. They can stay with us.” He gazed fondly at Crowley as he stood up and took his hand.

It would be nice to see Adam and the Them again, and enough people knew of their situation that they wouldn't have too much trouble there.

"Us." Crowley said giddily and smiled.

Time started again, and Suzanne seemed momentarily thrown that they were suddenly in different positions.

“We'll take care of it.” Crowley turned to her. "S'gonna work itself out."

They spent the rest of the morning finding a place to live in Tadfield, all their troubles smoothed out miraculously. The house came through easily, their important belongings were moved over, and wouldn't you know it, there were papers saying they'd been married 12 years and had applied to be foster parents and had plenty of glowing referrals. The papers were all just stuck.

All it had taken was a quick phone call to get things unstuck and Suzanne and Bella Jones would soon to be in their care. It had only been one day. Aziraphale sighed. His life had changed so much in one day. His bookstore would survive the temporary close, and the flat held too many memories and not enough of Crowley's true personality.

“I think champagne is a standard housewarming tradition.” Aziraphale said as produced two flutes late that night.

Crowley looked around at the strange mix of the two of them, and the assortment of things two young girls might like. “I doubt anything about us is standard.”

“No. But we've got a lot of work ahead of us sorting all this out, and it took us this long to get here, I think that calls for some kind of celebration.”

Crowley took one of the flutes. “Oh, alright.” He clinked Aziraphale's glass. “Cheers.”

Aziraphale sighed contentedly. “Cheers.”

“So we're really going to do this?” Crowley gestured around.

“Well, there are two empty beds down here, and one upstairs. And the girls will be the day after tomorrow to visit with us. But it's not too late, if you're having second thoughts.”

“Why would I have second thoughts?” He turned to Aziraphale in confusion. “You're not having second thoughts are you?”

“Never, dear.” Aziraphale reassured him.

“All of this, s'not too fast for you?”

“It's perfect. Now are you finished? I've been dying to try cuddling for 50 years, and I'm never one to deny myself.” Aziraphale sighed contentedly.

“Cuddling, eh? I guess I could do that.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Morning came too early. But a voice woke Aziraphale up before the sunlight could.*

(* This room had curtains though, so at least that cut down on _that_ problems.)

“Just what have you done Crowley?” the voice cut through the air.

Aziraphale's eyes shot open. That was Gabriel's voice.

Said archangel stepped forward his fingers seeming to dig into Crowley's skull, and the demon could feel this thoughts being rifled through. Every memory since their first conversation in Eden.When he pulled away, Gabriel's face looked grim.

“I tempted him. It's what I do!” Crowley's eyes were open wide in panic. “Took 6,000 years to wear him down.” But he knew that wouldn't work. Gabriel had read his mind. Laid his thoughts bare.

<~>

This time they didn't bother to put on a show. Beelzebub and Hastur came from down below, Gabriel and a gaggle of archangels from up above. Crowley hadn't even been able to grab a shirt, he was wearing only his underthings, while Aziraphale was in a sleep shirt. Neither were appropriate for the situation.

“The two of you have caused quite a bit of trouble.” Beelzebub grimaced. “This ends now.” She summoned up fire and let it pour at them. Both of them were bathed in the hellfire, Crowley recognized it when it filtered past him and turned instinctively towards Aziraphale, who was looking just as shocked as him that he was unhurt.

“Az.” Crowley blinked. “Angel this is hellfire.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale blinked. “I guess I've fallen.”

Crowley wanted to protest, you don't forget falling, but his voice failed him.

“Enough. Holy water then.” Micheal bit. “For real this time.”

Beelzebub called back the fire and Hastur smiled nastily at him.

The water cascaded over them, and to everyone's surprise, it did nothing. It was just like taking a shower.

“That's not supposed to happen.” Gabriel crossed his arms.

“What tricks have you pulled this time?” Micheal huffed.

Crowley just shrugged.*

(*He wanted to be clever, but he was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Holy Water had done _Nothing_. Then several sets of fingers slipped into his head and it took almost everything just to stay on his feet.)

<~>

And then the two were bound again, tied down to chairs back to back.

“This is starting to feel repetitive.” He grumbled, resting his head against Aziraphale's.

“Crowley!”

“Hollywood's all about sequels and redoing stuff. No one's original anymore. Should have known they'd do the same stuff.”

“Dear, do be _quiet._ ”

“I don't _want_ to be quiet.” Crowley snapped. “You just lived through _hellfire_ , me through _holy_ _water._ What is going on?”

“I don't have the slightest idea.” Aziraphale admitted. “But I'm sure whatever they'll come up with won't be pleasant.”

<~>

“Their souls are all over each other. Holy water and Hellfire are useless.” Sandalphon's nose twitched. “They might not have even needed to switch in the first place back then.”

Micheal looked irritated, thinking of her last visit to hell. “I knew Crowley wasn't like _that._ It was Aziraphale that whole time? Ugh. And just how are we supposed to fix this mess? I don't suppose you lot have any ideas?”

Beelzebub frowned and shook their head.

“Wait. I have an thought.” Gabriel spoke up. "I pulled something out of Crowley's memories. It worked on the demon. I'm sure if we work together, we could make it work for Aziraphale.”

“The cult.” Micheal said at the same time as Uriel said “The symbols.”

Gabriel spread out his hands and replayed the memory for Beelzebub and Hastur in 3D “Those symbols. Something about them worked. The humans figured it out. We can too.”

<~>

“Dear, I think they're coming back.” Aziraphale nudged Crowley's shoulder with his own.

Crowley had started to drift asleep. “Oy. About time. Figured out what to do with us?”

“We think so.” Micheal tilted her head and looked to Beelzebub. “Crowley's all yours.”

“Alright, let's get down to the torture. I was starting to get bored.”

“Well we can't have that. Come, Crowley.” They pulled him out of his chair.

“Ta.” He waved a finger at the archangels.

“And that leaves us with you.” Gabriel tutted as he leaned over the chair.

“I do feel like you waste a lot of time and resources on the two of us.”

“Well, we don't have an Apocalypse to prepare for anymore, guess who we have to thank for that. The two of you manage to cause quite a lot of trouble.”

Somewhere down below, the demons were putting on quite the show, branding symbols into skin with a hot iron. Heaven played things safer. It was just the archangels and Aziraphale.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Gabriel asked.

“Why would I? You're going to do whatever you've decided on.”

“Aziraphale. After six thousand years of living with humanity, if you want to be human so much, then be human.”

Symbols burned onto his very soul, and then through his flesh, he could feel his wings being crushed down, as if something was tying him up. “You are no longer worthy of Heaven's grace. We cast you out.”

<~>

And so two creatures, not really sure where they fit into the world anymore made their way back to a cottage in Tadfield. Crowley, with his shirt crackling with dry blood and other fluids*, and Aziraphale smelling quite sooty.

(*Hell had at least sent him home dressed, which he he was grateful for at the time, but now that his shirt had dried to him, he knew taking it off was going to be a nightmare. undoubtedly that was the point.)

Crowley sank down into a chair, the weight of the day wearing him down. He winced when it caused his shirt to pull on the burns, causing some of the blisters to burst and the scabs to come loose.

“Are you okay?”

“Fresh as a daisy. You?”

“I quite think that could have gone worse. Having our powers bound, well, we had them for 6,000 years, we'll figure this out too eventually. I am rather frustrated they burned through my clothes. I'd had that shirt for ages. It was comfy.” He said, fully expecting Crowley to poke fun at his choice of style.

Instead Crowley's shoulders sunk. “I have something to admit.” He glanced around. He needed wine for this. Aziraphale produced two wine glasses and poured them each a cup.

“I know you dear, and you want wine.” Aziraphale held out a glass.

“I do.” He sighed, not taking it. “I'm a little afraid that it's going to end up in my face though.”

“Why would you think that?” He asked as he placed both wine glasses on the coffee table in between them.

“Because I'm the reason our powers got bound.”

“No you're not.” He sounded so certain. “I'm certain the blame for that goes to whoever put burned those symbols onto us.”

“I am. It's my fault.” Crowley picked the glass off of the table and took a drink of the wine, not bothering to savor the taste. “When I felt them rifle through my mind, I had an idea. I acted like I really didn't want them to find out about the whole cult thing, how they kept me all week because I thought if they decided to do that, at least you'd still be alive.” His fingers trembled with nervous energy. “But now that he's done it. I don't know if I made the right choice.”

“ _Oh._ ”

“Oh indeed. Did I?” He looked at Aziraphale. “Did I make the right choice? Was there another option?”

“My dear boy.” He stood up from his own chair and took the demon's hand into his own. “There were no good options. You made the safest choice. If the humans figured out how to bind us in the first place, the humans may also figure out how to un-bind us.” He smiled reassuringly. “And until then we'll keep living, just as the humans do. We've been agents for 'greater' or 'eviler' powers for the last 6,000 years, but these next years are our own. Don't waste them worrying about if you made the right choice or the what ifs, We're out of the city now. No more work. Maybe we do a spot of traveling, and then settle down, raise the girls, you know, like the humans do. I think they call it retirement.” He squeezed Crowley's hand. “Well after 6,000 years, let's retire.”

  
  


 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There's a second part to this. I've already written 3,000 words. I've got it bad


End file.
